we're finally notdotq anymore

For the purposes of this, I’ll be setting aside previous assertions regarding The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi, regardless of their nature. This includes my “vitriolic rant on moe” and any beliefs anyone else holds. In addition, as this is a study of the anime, the books and manga will be disregarded for now. Now, the purposes of this are two-fold: to determine whether or not there is anything redeeming to the show beyond execution and animation quality and to further my own understanding (and possibly that of others) of the show.

How did I come up with the idea of doing this? Well, having just finished As I Lay Dying, I felt it worthwhile to examine what this show does on the same level as one examines the various clocks of Faulkner’s odyssey. I’ll most likely end up reading way too far into things, or, noticing that, getting frustrated and burning something. This study will most likely consist of eight parts (unless I condense a few)—one for each of the main arc’s six episodes, a seventh for “Episode 00,” and an eighth for wrap-up. Finally, a thank-you to the folks at a.f.k, whose translation I pull words from in my quotes.

• And without further ado, The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi Episode 02, “The Melancholy of Suzumiya Haruhi Part 1.”

The story starts with a close-up on a spinning bike wheel. Zoom out to Kyon riding his bike. He parks it and locks it, then proceeding to walk the rest of the way to school. He looks back twice on his way to school; once, as he’s leaving his bike, and then a second time when he has almost scaled the hill, this second time with a look of disbelief bordering on disgust. All the while, he is chatting about what can be described, in a word, as “faith.” He mentions a childish dream of not wanting to admit to “aliens. time travelers. espers. evil organizations” (00:35) not existing.

This aversion to reality is ironically complimented by his sarcastic praise for the integrity of the laws of physics. At this point, knowing nothing about him, one could easily decipher that he is a hopeless cynic—but perhaps he sees “aliens. time travelers. espers. evil organizations” in the city he’s leaving behind as he walks. He turns around and looks back down the hill, most probably at the spot he left his bike. He leaves his bike behind as he enters high school, throwing away his childish beliefs and immersing himself in his perceived “reality.” The lock on his bike is not an anti-theft device; it’s a seal on the supernatural, on those “childish dreams” he “graduated from” (01:25).

Kyon gives a very normal introduction on his first day and is received more or less warmly by his new classmates. When Haruhi, the girl behind him, announces that her interests lie solely in “aliens. time travelers. espers” (01:45), Kyon turns around, skepticism etched into his face, and asks himself, “Are we supposed to laugh?” (01:55). He has a clear understanding of what is normal and what is not, despite his recently-discarded whims, and is not amused by Haruhi’s atypical introduction. Physics forever~! He notes that she appeared to him as a “striking beauty” (01:59) and, while this could be easily written off as his wit, it’s quite possible that he was in fact struck by her beauty, which (and I’m forecasting here) can explain a lot.

It is also worth noting that Haruhi sits directly behind Kyon. And that, as he says, “in hindsight, [her introduction] was neither a joke nor a laughing matter” (02:18). The bathroom symbolism for their meeting is also worth noting—between the two doors is a sign that says “4F”. One can infer that these bathrooms are on the fourth floor. This is a continuation of the ascension commenced when Kyon leaves behind his bike: he has not only graduated the lowlands, but he has come up to the fourth floor of the school upon the hill.

Before the opening sequence rolls, he mentions that he hopes he can believe in their meeting being coincidence, another irony in that he is seeking faith (believing) in the mundane (coincidence). As he throws away his beliefs and the unreal, he holds onto the idea that he can believe in the real, that his lauded laws of physics are as well written as he praised them for being.

As for the opening sequence itself… I’m only going to discuss it once (probably) and even then in vague terms. There are a couple points of interest but the majority of it is, unfortunately, fanservice, shot after shot of supremely-genki Haruhi being… well, herself. The first point is the beginning, where the night sky fades to white and Haruhi reaches out into the sky, taking a bodiless hand. Bodiless can also be interpreted as intangible, and that in itself has multiple meanings in this context. “The whole show is an illusion” is one possibility; she is grasping something that is simply not there. Alternatively, the hand is to Haruhi as the finger is to Adam in Michelangelo’s painting. She, the chosen of God, is connecting with Him. The second point is Kyon’s bike at “dokomademo jiyuu na…” (3:35)—here, he is still (or possibly once again) in touch with his childish beliefs. Given the section of the sequence, which is Haruhi calling Kyon to her, one can safely assume that this is Kyon being pulled back down into everything he ascended above. Ironically, the multi-color image in the background is that of bike(s) lying on the ground.

After the opening, Kyon asks to be forgiven for “losing [his] mind for a moment” (04:14). The reason? He addressed Haruhi. Their first interchange, much like the first interchange between Masami Eiri and IP Lain of Serial Experiments Lain, is essentially meaningless. Also much like that first interchange between Masami Eiri and IP Lain, it involves a heavy dose of mind-fucking. Haruhi’s insistence that her introductory speech wasn’t a joke toys with Kyon’s maturity; in treating his middle-school dreams as reality, she is in effect breaking down the world he knows. Not entirely conscious of it at this point, a change takes place when they talk for the first time. Kyon has been irrevocably snatched away from the hill, physics, and the fourth floor by this odd, short-tempered girl. Severely confused by her behavior, Kyon backsteps out of the conversation, though not without looking back.

Later, he is discussing Haruhi with his classmate Taniguchi, who knows her from middle school, that time when Kyon wished for “aliens. time travelers. espers. evil organizations” to exist. Haruhi is apparently famous for having done a lot of weird things back in middle school—scrawling giant pictographs, emptying a classroom of its desks, etc. These are the things she did back in the city below the hill, and Taniguchi’s recounting of them furthers her metaphorical vise-like grip on Kyon’s arm. Taniguchi’s talk is comprised of several different scenes glued together. One over a meal, one on outside staircase, one during a break in the classroom… and in each of these scenes, Kyon is watching Haruhi. And when he looks back at Haruhi, he is looking back at the childhood he left behind in walking to school.

Taniguchi warns Kyon against asking Haruhi out. Kyon claims that he’s “not even interested” (06:19), but it’s not a matter of being interested or not. Just as gravity demands that objects come down from high places, so does Haruhi’s presence demand that Kyon descend from his position as a cynical middle school graduate who praises physics. Taniguchi’s banter carries on to mention Asakura Ryoko, who at the time is running a lap in gym class. Kyon looks on, unamused, as Taniguchi talks, but then frowns at 06:52. He isn’t frowning at Taniguchi’s idiocy, nor at Ryoko—he frowns as Haruhi takes to the track. His reaction to her is perfect; he understands that he is under her control and yet is denying it as fervently as he shut down the possibility of the supernatural existing.

Kyon goes on to elaborate upon some of Haruhi’s odd habits. They can all be written off as quirks of her character. None of them matter for anything other than setting up how “weird” she is and a bit of situational humor, such as Kyon’s snide “So that makes today Wednesday” (08:42).

Coming back from a week-long holiday, Kyon comments on Haruhi’s hairstyle—and begins their second conversation. This interchange proves that Kyon’s hindsight isn’t 20/20; he refers to this conversation as “the trigger” (10:00) while the trigger is clearly his “fit of insanity” back when he first addressed her. Kyon’s overabundance of thought regarding her (even back then, as indicated by how disturbed he is at her cutting her hair [10:15]) is a sign that she has successfully dominated his mind. Kyon, who sees her and through her looks back at where he left his bike, has begun talking to her on a daily basis.

They discuss Haruhi’s bad luck with men. She is of the belief that only worthless men inhabit Earth, mainly because none of them are aliens, time travelers, or espers. Kyon thinks to himself, “that’s to be expected” (10:57), again trying to cement his maturity. He tells himself he’ll play along with her, implying that he’ll patronize her despite knowing better than to believe in aliens et al. Ah, Kyon. He’s almost tragic. Now, during these longer sections of dialogue, there isn’t much to note about the visuals. Kyoto Animation, for all their attention to detail and trickiness, doesn’t throw us any curve ball symbolism during “down to earth” scenes like these. KyoAni does execute the characters charmingly, capturing their mannerisms and expressions fairly well, but that doesn’t add to meaning or aid understanding. We know who Kyon and Haruhi are without the close-ups on their faces in this scene, and while the execution touches are very nice for the casual watching of the show, they’re completely nonessential.

The conversation ends with Haruhi asking if it isn’t the case that going out with aliens would be more interesting than humans… yeah, girl. Whatever. More creepy than anything else, I’d think. But, to be fair to the poor girl, let’s accept that this is an important part of her character: the reason she seeks the supernatural so eagerly is that she desires something fun. In other words, she’s bored with this ugly yet beautiful world.

Kyon’s buddies (and Ryoko) approach him, asking him (quite ironically) what kind of “magic” he used to get Haruhi to talk (11:54). (Forecasting again, but…) … is Ryoko’s creepy, stalker-like interest in Haruhi in this second episode some kind of foreshadowing?

Next, a new seating chart is made!
(We’re about halfway through the episode, folks, hold on tight ^_^)

“This is coincidence, right?” Kyon asks himself as he takes his new seat (13:15), only to find that Haruhi’s new seat is that directly behind his. I swear I’m going somewhere with this. The two exchange some more meaningless small talk, and then Kyon goes on a minute long rampage about how supernatural stuff doesn’t exist, geniuses make civilization advance, and “common folk like [them] are best off living an ordinary life” (14:41). The man is in serious denial, and he seeks some pretty hefty comfort in how weird Haruhi is compared to him.

The fact that Kyon survives Haruhi’s spinal-column-breaking-attack is a sign that he’s more than human, by the way.

Haruhi thinks of the club… Haruhi extorts Kyon into helping her form it… Haruhi steals Nagato’s clubroom… Haruhi uses fucked up non-logic to explain why she can use the room, blah, blah blah… This whole set of scenes between the neck-desk and Kyon’s discussion with Nagato at 17:59 is pretty much fanservice of Haruhi’s character. There’s nothing to discuss here unless you want to run in loops through her logic, but that’s not interesting at all and doesn’t lend to the greater understanding of the show. (Again, that’s forecasting—I happen to know, having seen the show through, that her messed up logic in this episode doesn’t play a major role later on.)

Nagato’s “unique … all of it” (18:06-18:11) is an interesting pair of words. Not only do they answer Kyon’s question, but they very concisely sum up everything we’ve learned about so far. Kyon’s narration, Haruhi’s antics, the as of yet still to be named club, Ryoko’s inquisitiveness, Kyon’s obsession with reality, Nagato herself… all of these can be described as “unique” from the perspective of a character within the show (of course, to us, one or more of these items aren’t unique, being more or less stock). Ah, Nagato, you insightful little wench.

Alright, from this point on, the episode is just fanservice and comedy, aside from Mikuru’s expressive GASP at seeing Nagato. “SOS-dan” cements Haruhi as incredibly bored, and her abuse of Mikuru cements her as incredibly fucked up. Mikuru is a doormat who somehow knows something about Nagato and Nagato is the omniscient silent type. Where we go from here is entirely up to the next episode.

So, in review, I think I noticed some things I hadn’t noticed before… and will continue to do this, as outlined in the second paragraph of the post. I hope this was either a fun read, boring to the point of suicide, or anywhere in between. Beyond either extreme is a little scary. Hope I didn’t offend anyone except for the people who like the fact that I bash Haruhi all the time. See you next~